


Crossroads

by visionshadows



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-09-24
Updated: 2002-09-24
Packaged: 2017-10-11 12:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionshadows/pseuds/visionshadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel searches for the desert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossroads

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_Crossroads _   
by [zillah](mailto:zillah@sparklydanceboys.com)

_"…down at the crossroads  
the question is posed  
bridge is washed out  
and the highway's closed.."_  
                                        -Tom Waits "The Wages of Love"

 

 

"This is crazy," I say softly into the darkness of the bedroom. I swallow thickly and swing out of bed, careful not to disturb Jack's slumber. I look at him, watch for a moment as he lies perfectly still, legs splayed out enough that I have to sleep with a leg thrown over his so I don't fall out of the bed. Sometimes I think he does it on purpose. His mouth is slightly open and he snores, a sound so soothing and irritating at the same time. It amazes me what I've grown used to where Jack is concerned. I shake myself out of my reverie and walk out of the room.

The house is dark and too cold which is one of the things I've learned to live with for Jack. I don't like cold; I dream of sand and hot sun as I shiver under the blankets and curl into warm skin that never warms the chill deep inside of me.

My hands shake as I tie the laces on my (Jack's) sneakers. I don't know where I'm going; I never do. I look around and my eyes cloud over.

Jack's house, Jack's keys, Jack's sweats, Jack's shoes, Jack's hands, Jack's tongue, Jack's lover, Jack's co-worker, Jack's subordinate, Jack's friend.

"This is crazy."

I stare at myself in the mirror and wonder if Daniel is still there behind everything that is Jack's. I trace the shape of my face and remember softer hands touching me so long ago and I push them away, make the ghosts disappear. Soft hands, much softer than Jack's. Mom, Sarah, Sha're, hell, even Sam and Janet.

Jack's hands are rough and when he touches me it's too gentle for rough hands. I want him to push and squeeze and hurt me. Sometimes I want his fist to connect with my face and break what I see, break the façade that is Jack's Daniel and see if Daniel is underneath it all.

I slide the gun into the waistband of the sweats; Jack's gun. He insists on it when I have to disappear like this. I hate that he knows and lets me go. I wonder if he even wants to fight for me. He always lets me go.

I shut the front door and stand on the porch, looking out at the darkness and not seeing any of it. I see sun and sand and the desert. I think I left Daniel there years ago and if I run fast enough and far enough, the desert will be there and Sha're will touch my face with her soft hands and I'll forget Jack.

I run and I try to find the desert that calls to me. I want to feel the scorching heat and lie on my back and look up at stars that are so brilliant against inky blackness.

"Ciò è pazzesca," I murmur. Italian is a language I rarely use nowadays, but is a comfort to me. "Ciò è pazzesca."

Everything is crazy and I can almost feel sun on my face when I close my eyes and stop in the middle of a park. I turn my face into the phantom sun and smile happily.

"Sha're," I say to nothing, to the vision in my mind. "Sha're."

The ground underneath me opens up and sinks and I am knee-deep in quicksand and going under fast. I open my eyes and grasp at the sides and go under, covered by nothing and everything at once.

I scream and fall to the ground, the sound echoing in my ears but not the air. The sound is trapped back in the quicksand where only I am and only I can hear it. I fist dirt in my hands and try to dig a hole big enough to hide myself in. I can't and I know that I can't.

When I was back on Abydos, I showed Sha're how to bury someone in the sand like kids do at the beach. Desert sand and beach sand are very different and I sank further down then I had planned, grasping at sand that kept slipping through my fingers until her hand closed around mine and pulled me out. We'd laughed and she said that she wasn't going to bury me ever again. I laughed and told her that I'd take her to the ocean and she could bury me in that sand.

I regret a lot of things, but never taking Sha're to the ocean is a big one. Small in the course of a lifetime, yes, but big when the lifetime you have with someone is only a year.

I went to the ocean with Jack last year, walked into the water and dug my toes into the wet sand, thinking how excited Sha're would have been if she'd gotten to see this. So much water, she would say, her eyes lighting up in amazement. So much water.

I touch the ground again, no longer attacking it with a viciousness I don't really possess. My viciousness, what little of it there is, belongs to Jack and when we leave the mountain, my viciousness stays there. He picks it up when we go back to work and I slip it on like an old jacket that's never fit right.

Back on Abydos, there was a fork in the road that went to the abandoned temple one way and back to my home the other. I took that fork daily, thinking that the only way to go was back to Sha're. I would stop every so often and look in the other direction and say a name that I didn't want to remember but haunted me every night, drove me from my bed with Sha're.

"Jack," I whisper, then and now. "Jack." My mantra when I first got to Abydos, my curse when I finally came back.

There's a gun in my hand, Jack's gun, but it's not in my hands now. I stand at the fork in the road and go towards the temple, Jack's gun in my hand and Sha're so very far away.

I chose my path years ago and now, now I have to stand up, brush off my hands, and walk back to the house where Jack snores softly in our bed.

Our house, our keys, our life.

I stand up and brush off my hands, streaking dirt on my(our) sweats.

"Daniel," Jack's voice is quiet, worried. I look at him dumbly and he is squinting from the sunlight and the glare off the sand. He takes my hand and squeezes, his hair rumpled from the bed and he's only wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a thin T-shirt. "Come home, Daniel."

I look at his hand wrapped around mine and think that Sha're's hand couldn't wrap around mine; she was so small and delicate in ways Jack could never dream of being.

"Isto é louco," I say softly, closing my eyes and watching the sand slipping away. "Jack."

"It's not," he says to me, his voice loud in the dead of night. I open my eyes and look at him. "This isn't crazy."

"You're not her," I blurt out, not meaning to. He knows he's not Sha're and he accepts that. I'm the one that can't get past it. I watch as he flinches, but his grip on my wrist never falters even as he fights for words. I murmur in Abydosian, Robert Frost - _Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and sorry I could not travel both_, and Jack murmurs back, _bullshit_ \- still in Abydosian, causing me to look up in surprise.

"The road less traveled is often more worthwhile," Jack says to me, his hand falling away now. "Sha're's dead, Daniel. I'm not. Don't keep telling yourself this is crazy because this is NOT crazy," he gestures between us and I see how serious he is. "This is what I believe in, what brings me home everyday and keeps me alive on missions when everything really is crazy. I have this, _I have us_, to keep me sane. So please, Daniel, please don't call this crazy."

I step forward and hug him as tightly as I can, my face pressed to his shoulder. I don't cry and he doesn't cry and the sand doesn't swirl around us and Teal'c doesn't kill Sha're and I never uncover the gate.

When I was seven, my father sat me down and told me that someday I'm going to have to make a choice and that choice would change my whole life. He told me that I'll be scared and I'll be alone, but that choice will be worth it. It was hot and there was sand everywhere when my father told me that. I remember putting my head on his shoulder and watching the sand swirl around, covering that day's work. Sand, my father once said, is the great equalizer.

Jack's hands hold me close, strong arms keeping me out of the quicksand. I'm not sure anymore whether I can go under or not. Jack won't let me like so many times before. He holds me up and saves me and I want to make him let go, to just let me slip away. He follows me tonight, but no others. Why tonight? Why now?

The flash of the gate startles me and I turn slowly, my heart pounding as I force myself not to wish so desperately that Jack will walk through that gate and take me home again. I have a home with Sha're and I am happy. I am.

Jack's lips were sunburnt the first time I kissed him, cracked and dry. He kissed back, chastly, but his hands, they grabbed and clutched in desperation. Sha're held me like I was a lifeline, the only thing that she could latch onto and use to keep herself above water(sand). Jack held me just as desperately and I wondered if anyone knew that I needed to be held up myself.

I pull away and look at Jack and Sha're, the dual image playing in my mind so easily. Jack's face and Sha're's smile. Nowhere is Daniel and I just smile and pull back, looking at them.

"I have to go," I say and Jack/Sha're's face crumbles. Hands reach out, too big and too delicate all at once. I pull my arm back and their mutual fingers slip away. I see the fork in the road in front of me, Jack/Sha're on one side and my freedom (Daniel) on the other. I press dry lips against a rough/smooth cheek and turn away to find Daniel.

Jack's voice calls after me; Sha're doesn't say a word. I can feel hot sand burning my feet and damp grass under my fingernails. Jack is here. Sha're is not. Daniel is gone and all that is left is me.

Arms grab me, pull me close again and he's looking desperate now. I think that just maybe Jack loves me and I slump slightly, feeling the sand fade away. Only Jack is left. Jack in the cool, damp night wearing pajama bottoms and a thin T-shirt. He is wearing my slippers, didn't even stop to put on shoes. He's chased me before, everytime I leave the bed and I forget that he does until now, until he looks at me so desperately and frightened. Until I know that losing me is his greatest fear.

Sha're never chased me. She never once followed me across the desert to the abandoned temple where I slowly, surreptiously uncovered the gate. She could have stopped me if she followed, but she never did.

I let Jack take my hand and lead me home. Jack will hold me above the water, won't let me drown in the sand.

I made my choice years ago.  
  
---  
  
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